


Silent Commands

by Gamedy_Dragon



Series: Unfinished Things [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Comedy, Lazy People, Neglect, Snakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 20:09:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16047665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gamedy_Dragon/pseuds/Gamedy_Dragon
Summary: Parents are the grounding platform of children. They help them grow, provide information, and walk them through small troubles. Young Harry Potter, however, grew up on the end of shouting and speeding fists and feet. Not knowing half of the alphabet or his own name, it really wasn't a surprise that he connected to the first person to call him 'Child'. Only, it wasn't exactly a person, but a small pit of Grass Snakes.





	Silent Commands

**Author's Note:**

> READ!!!!
> 
> I finished chapter one and started on chapter two, but ended up moving onto chapter three quickly because Chapter 2 was messing with my brain a small bit. Uh, this was one of the big books I had planned, and I might take it down one day and write the whole thing, but as of right now I only can squeeze out enough motivation to plan one big book.
> 
> Theres Author Notes in front of every chapter beginning, that is because I planned to, of course, put them all into chapters and I thought I needed to say something, excpecially because It was originally going on Wattpad.
> 
> Anyway, this is Silent Commands.

**Parents are the grounding platform of children. They help them grow, provide information, and walk them through small troubles. Young Harry Potter, however, grew up on the end of shouting and speeding fists and feet. Not knowing half of the alphabet or his own name, it really wasn't a surprise that he connected to the first person to call him 'Child'. Only, it wasn't exactly a person, but a small Grass Snakes.**

**-**

**_Note: I don't want to portray anyone as 'Bad', so there will be no bashing in this, no specific 'Evil' character, and I'm trying to mellow out a few things for down the road._ **

**_I also changed a few major things, just to make everything fit, and because this is my story idea._ **

**_I don't own J.K. Rowling's books, nor any character of the Harry Potter series._ **

**_-_ **

' _-You will, however, receive a generous amount of currency (Announced at the end of the passage) for looking after (Harrison James Evans-Potter) so long as he is in good health by 1991, September 1st. I have taken into account that (Petunia Harrison Evans-Dursley) was not in good favours with (Lily Jane Evans-Potter) during her time of death and I (Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore), posing as his Magical Guardian, entrust that (Vernon Hansol Dursley) and (Petunia Harrison Evans-Dursley) will set behind any hatred of Magic and treat an innocent (Harrison James Evans-Potter) as their own._

 _As rightfully promised by the (Wizarding Law: Muggle and Rights, Child Belonging and Privacy), no Wizards will come in contact with any (Dursley) by my (Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore) command. Any convenient meetings between (Muggle) and (Wizard and Witch) will not hold I (Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore) accountable, and-_ '

"No," Petunia announced between thin lips, patience run dry as her husband read through the letter, "We are not keeping- keeping- _it_! This- this Albus can get the spawn if he would like, but he is not staying here."

Vernon placed a placid hand on top of her own, soothing her. "Of course not, Pet', " He murmured, frown bending his moustache, "One of their kind cannot possibly be around our Dudley; infecting him with their _Magic_. But..."

"What." Petunia looked at him, the skin on her face pulling harshly as she scowled, "You must not actually be considering-"

"It's a lot of money," Vernon stated, placing the golden trimmed piece of paper next to the old basket containing the silent babe: Harrison, "Enough for us to life a life free of financing and for me to work from home; I don't, after all, want to miss out on Dudley's life."

'- _Exchange rate: (37 Knut's to 1 Sickle / 27 Sickle's to 1 Galleon / 64 Knut's to 1 Galleon)_

_1 Galleon / 5 Muggle Pounds (British Currency)_

_1 Sickle / 00.18 Muggle Pence (British Currency)_

_1 Knut / 00.07 Muggle Pence (British Currency)_

_Expected Galleon's (Weekly): 59_

_Exchange (British Pounds): 295_

_Delivered by Muggle postage-_ '

Petunia glowered at Vernon, insulted, "Are you really suggesting we keep this- freak, Vernon, Dear." She cast a disdainful glare at the basket sitting innocently on her table. Barely a year old and already a curse, just like all the other _things_ out there. Devil Spawns- all of them.

"We don't know for sure this kids' Magic, Petunia," Vernon hummed, "For all that might happen, this unnaturalness might skip- ah, Harrison, like it did to you, Pet'."

"You don't get it," Petunia hissed through gritted teeth, "My parents were normal; it's the reason I'm untainted. My _Sister_ is unnormal and any of her children are bound to be the same- right down to the last bone."

 Vernon nodded thoughtfully, a meaty hand absently the golden trimmed parchment closer. He ran his eyes over the information sparingly, paying no heed to his wife. It only took a few minutes to figure out his answer.

"We'll give it a month," Vernon announced, hand catching his wives. He looked directly into her blue eyes, the anger in them darkening the colour, "Should nothing happen - no unexplainable circumstances or as such - we can bring him to light and decide he is just a boy- just like our Dudley," he squeezed Petunia' hand when she opened her mouth in protest, "But. If anything happens, from an unexplained broken jar or flying pigs _, Harrison James Evans-Potter_ will be gone and we shall never hear from him again."

Petunia blinked at him before narrowing her eyes in suspicion, "Be gone? Please, Dear, explain."

Vernon gave a tight smile, dropping her bony hand. He gabbed the letter, pushing it into his wives grip, "This Albus said that we would gain our rightful money so long that the boy, Harrison, never be put in harms way," He pointed out the wording the Wizard had put in, watching as Petunia reread it, "But if we don't know a Harrison - If we know a, say, Harry, or even Lucas, then there is physically nothing this Albus can do."

Petunia gaped for a small minute, rather impressed. Both she and her husband knew that a Wizards' words are not to be taken lightly, that much Petunia remembered from her _Sisters'_ sprouts in their younger ages. She also knew, however, that like normal people, even a Wizards contract can have loopholes. The only thing different between a normal persons contract and a Wizards contract was the fact Wizards were bound to theirs unless they wanted their magic removed or, worse (But not really), death.

If they raised the Spawn as something other than Harrison, then the contract would be null. They would be getting their money because, in reality, Harrison would be fine. If they did hurt the Spawn, It wouldn't be Harrison, and so, Harrison would be in perfect condition by the time 1991 rolled around, simply because of the fact he didn't exist.

Absolutely genius.

Petunia gave a harsh nod, "One month," she agreed, "But no more than that."

Vernon was more than happy with that.

-

Twenty three days later, noisy neighbours watched as Petunia Dursley rid of old cleaning supplies and long forgotten shoes with broken, mouldy boxes.

-

Seven years passed quickly for Vernon Dursley. His son grew older, learning to walk and talk, gaining meat on his bones. He got a promotion to head deputy in his job. His quick marriage with Petunia evolved into something more healthy and natural. And the boy that arrived on their door step now lives under their stairs as a night owl.

Vernon was happy with all but the last thing, but he tended to just ignore that as much as he could.

After it had been proven that Harrison was indeed magic, they'd figured that the cupboard under the stairs was a perfect place for him. Away from Dudley. Away from Marge when she came over. And away from them so they didn't have to worry about the boy sneaking up for revenge. Not an ideal thought; but realistic, considering the boy was up and about during the night and their treatment had been less that fair.

Harrison grew to know that he really wasn't wanted around, that much Vernon felt a bit guilty of. After all, if it was his son in that position- but Dudley was a normal boy, one that couldn't grow out his hair over night or levitate a teddy bear.

Petunia then assigned the boy jobs. Ironing, washing, cooking, cleaning. The early hours exhausted the child at first, what with the dark rings under jade eyes and the slow movements, but a plan was soon divided. The child was smart, Vernon admitted, knowing to sleep during the afternoon and work during the nights until morning. It let him avoid everyone - although, Vernon did get a few glimpses of Harrison finishing the last touches of breakfast before he had to leave the house - and par the rear shopping trips which couldn't be preformed in the middle of the night, he never came in contact with another human. It let him avoid Petunia's verbal abuse, at the very least.

Vernon was actually quite ashamed of their treatment towards a child, nothing but a babe, especially with what his wife tells the boy - despite the fact Vernon was sure Harrison understood absolutely none of it - but there was no use crying over spilt milk, and all the blame would go towards the _Albus Dumbledore_ for leaving a magical child with normal people - quite suddenly with no real explanation, too.

He certainly wouldn't take responsibility for what his son does to the boy. In fact, Vernon tries to remain as blissfully ignorant as he can despite all the second-hand information. Harrison was never out during the time Vernon arrived home from work, and the rest of his family only encountered the boy when he ran over time with his chores.

Which was one of the reasons Vernon bought a pair of glasses for the boy. Despite the fact he had never had a conversation with Harrison, from the quick side glimpses he caught, he could tell that the child struggled to see properly. It was from the way he leaned much to close to the fire while he cooked, and how he touched things with his fingers first before doing anything, and not to mention the fact his eyes already had crease marks at the edges: and those certainly were not from smiling too much.

He had no idea what prescription the boy needed, but settled for average-to-strong lenses. Leaving them in the cupboard while the boy slept was easy, and he considered they worked from the extra shine the house seemed to have in the following days.

Vernon knew that they weren't good people. He knew it was immoral to treat a child like a 19' century slave. He knew that he should put a stop to the abuse his wife and son gave the boy. He knew he should play a more active role in the boys life: like the Uncle he should be.

But they gave the boy shelter. They gave him old clothes with a few new things spotted for half price. They let him have what ever food he liked so long as he didn't run the fridge dry. And as far as Vernon knew, Harrison would be taken away when he reached eleven - off to a magic school - so the boys education was not their problem.

As long as he kept everything containing magic and evil Dark Lords miles away from him and his mind, and played the role as the lame bystander rather than the guilty man, Vernon was safe, and with that so was his wife and son.

Magic wasn't in his genes, and so Vernon was happily enough to stay away from it all.

-

**Parents are the grounding platform of children. They help them grow, provide information, and walk them through small troubles. Young Harry Potter, however, grew up on the end of shouting and speeding fists and feet. Not knowing half of the alphabet or his own name, it really wasn't a surprise that he connected to the first person to call him 'Child'. Only, it wasn't exactly a person, but a small Grass Snakes.**

**-**

**_I noticed how Harry never had to 'Learn' how to speak Parseltongue; he just knew how to talk snake. I just thought I'd mention it if you were wondering why he could speak snake but not English._ **

**_You also have to realize that Harry doesn't know the right words for anything. He wouldn't even know the proper word for 'sun', or 'sky'. To him, it would be 'The bright ball above'. I tried not to change it too much, and did add the correct definitions, but I was tryign to keep it as realistic as possible. Please keep that in mind._ **

**_-_ **

Boy was six when he noticed the talking from under the floor. It was faint, barely there, and would stop for many sun cycles before resuming. Had the nights not been silent, and the occupants of the house asleep, Boy doubted that even he would have heard it.

Every time the speaking came back, it would be during the sun rise, just as he climbed back in his room to sleep. And Boy would listen, every time the speaking arrived, and slowly, he learned how to strain his ears to hear more.

Boy found that he liked what the speaking talked about. Some times it was about a mouse they caught, about how it squeaked noisily before they were able to eat it. Some times it was about a den, where they lived and if the bones were comfortable enough for the hatchlings to live in. Some times they complemented the heat in their den, and other times they talked about the grass outside.

Boy found that he liked these speakers, much more than the ones outside his room. The tall one would always talk to him when he was late with making food, and it always radiated negative feelings. Boy stayed away from that outsider, his instincts agreeing with him. There was also a short one, around his height, that liked to throw its hands and feet at him and Boy would admit that it brought out that bad feeling when the limbs connected. The short one always liked to call him names, too, the most common being 'Boy', 'Harry', 'Freak', and 'You'.

Boy didn't know what they all meant, but he guessed it was his Label.

The last outsider Boy knew of didn't talk to Boy much. The outsider was out of the walls when dawn hit, and Boy was already in his room when the outsider returned. This outsider was Boy's favorite, since they had a mutual feeling of 'You stay out of my way, I'll stay out of yours'. Boy was also sure that the biggest outsider was the one to give him the tool that helped his eyesight.

The speakers under the floor sometimes talked about Tall. They said that Tall batted them with shoes and newspapers, and how it had this smelly spray that hurt the speakers sensers. The speakers even said that the one Labled 'Sai' had to leave the nest because of it. Boy found that he disliked Tall even more. If the speakers under the floor had to leave, how could Boy listen to them? Boy didn't know, and the next dawn, Boy made sure to spray his mouth water into its drink to see if it'd leave the walls, too.

When Boy was seven (he guessed his age was the same as Short, and several dawns ago, everyone started pronouncing something differently when the 'Birth day' came around. But he liked the word 'six' better; more hisses) he dug his finger digits into the floor and, to his amazement, found a hole underneath, filled with small, wriggly green creatures.

Boy had never seen anything like it! He'd seen other things that didn't look like Tall, Short or Nice, like the slimy thing that left a shiny trail along the food chambers desk, and a few multi-legged things lived in the corner of his room. These, though, were thin and curly, making knots and swerls.

(UNWRITTEN)

-

**Parents are the grounding platform of children. They help them grow, provide information, and walk them through small troubles. Young Harry Potter, however, grew up on the end of shouting and speeding fists and feet. Not knowing half of the alphabet or his own name, it really wasn't a surprise that he connected to the first person to call him 'Child'. Only, it wasn't exactly a person, but a small pit of Grass Snakes.**

**-**

**_Know that this is very AU oriented and that I have added some interesting features to the main story line. I'd very much like to call this an original idea, but I know that somewhere out there, whether published online or rotting away as a draft, this story already exists._ **

**_Also, excuse me; I know no French. I used translator._ **

**_I don't own Harry Potter nor J.K. Rowling._ **

**_-_ **

Albus knew he fucked up. It wasn't anything knew, in all honesty. His age was catching up on his mind even if his body was in good shape. If it wasn't for Fawkes, Albus was sure he would be in a retirement home just waiting for his soon-to-be death day to come.

But that was not the problem at the very moment.

It had been ages since Albus had a proper Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor: just over thirty years or so. And in that time, Albus would admit to only ever having one occupant on the 'requesting' list at a time. Of course, they would be gone by the end of the year and then another person would pop up with a plausible background even if Albus had never heard of them before.

The DADA curse - nicknamed horribly by a first year Gryffindor - left him feeling tired. Albus knew that over seventy percent of the people he hired died in one way or another, the rest either retiring because of trauma or injury. It was stupid, really, just how far a simply modified magic curse could go.

It annoyed Albus that he couldn't figure out a way to counter the curse. He had tried every spell in his range, even going further into the Dark Arts for ideas. Either way, it was all for null.

Thirty years was a long time, especially as Albus grew older and more weary, and he had taken to just spelling his quill to accept the Defense Against The Dark Arts position as he worked on something else or was flooing someone.

After all, the person would be gone in a year, so what would be the point of wasting time searching everything he knew about the person hired?

Well, that was where he fucked up.

His new Defense Against The Dark Arts professor. _T.M._ _Devinette._

 _Tom Marvolo Devinette._ Literally Tom Marvolo Riddle translated into French.

And the major problem with the whole 'accidently hiring Lord Voldemort (Who was, by the way, supposed to be dead)' thing, was that _Albus_ had actually called upon an old Law years ago which stopped a professor of Hogwarts from quitting after the first day (Because three DADA professors before then had all done as such, continuously).

They had to be in the school and teach to the best of their abilities for at least three months.

And now the only way Albus could get out of this was by shutting down the school, because ' _Tom Marvolo Devinette translates into Tom Marvolo Riddle which is also an anagram for I Am Lord Voldemort and even though he should be dead, I am positive this person, who also looks twenty, is Voldemort_ ' is not a good answer to fire someone.

(UNWRITTEN)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! I did most of it in one day, but it's been sitting around for a few months. I added a bit on, though, so I'm sorry if you can see a huge difference or if I forgot something.
> 
> (I kept calling Petunia 'Her', and had to correct it because I'd doubt that Harry knew what the difference between male and female was)
> 
> I'd appreciate a review! It helps me impove!


End file.
